What a Greek Witch Taught Me About Strength, Loss, and Rebirth
Lessons from Madeline Miller’s Timeless Heroine
There are books that entertain, books that challenge, and then there are books that burrow into your soul, reshaping the way you see yourself and the world around you. Circe by Madeline Miller is the latter for me. This tale of change, strength, and defiance lingers after the last page. Certain passages from Circe have stayed with me, whispering truths into my life and even taking permanent residence on my skin in the form of a tattoo.
The Power of Reinvention
“I thought: I cannot bear this world a moment longer. Then, child, make another.”
This line is etched into me—literally. I carry it as a tattoo, a reminder that even when the world feels unbearable, I have the power to reshape it, to carve out a new existence, to begin again. Circe continually reinvents herself, refusing to be trapped in a fate dictated by others. Her story reminds me that even when circumstances seem immovable, we still hold the power to create something new, to step into our own magic.
This sentiment has a profound impact on me. I moved from Brazil at 17, then to a different state at 21, a different city at 23, and now at 29, I have returned to where my father’s side of the family lives. Each move has been a reinvention, a chance to shape a new world for myself, just as Circe does.
The Illusion of Fragility
“It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment’s carelessness. If I had ever believed it, I no longer did.”
Circe begins her story as someone dismissed, overlooked, and underestimated. But through trial and pain, she sheds the imposed frailty and steps into her own power. This quote speaks to the resilience of women, to the way we are often boxed into expectations of softness, only to prove time and again that we are unbreakable.
Growing up, I was surrounded by narratives that reinforced limitations, urging me to be small, to be quiet, to conform. But, there is something liberating about breaking free from those confines. It's about expanding beyond what was expected and embracing my own strength.
People as Constellations
“I would say, some people are like constellations that only touch the earth for a season.”
There’s a sad beauty in this thought. Some people enter our lives only to leave again. They burn brightly for a moment before fading into memory. Circe captures the transience of relationships, the inevitability of change, and the quiet acceptance that some connections, no matter how powerful, are not meant to last forever. I have spent years grieving the loss of these fleeting relationships that I often forget their lessons and the cherished moments we shared. But with time, I now see them as gifts. They were brief but meaningful constellations that lit my path when I needed them most.
Owning Our Narrative
“I was not surprised by the portrait of myself: the proud witch undone before the hero’s sword, kneeling and begging for mercy. Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.”
History, literature, and mythology have long favored the male perspective, often reducing women to mere supporting roles—objects of love, sacrifice, or tragedy. But Circe reclaims that narrative, refusing to be defined by the lens of others. It is part of a growing genre of Greek mythology retellings that seek to give voice to the women whose stories have long been overshadowed. Rewriting these narratives is an act of empowerment, a way of reclaiming agency over history and myth alike. It is a reminder to take control of our own stories, to resist the versions of ourselves imposed by society, and to stand in our own truth.
Embracing Change and Aging
“I have aged. When I look in my polished bronze mirror, there are lines upon my face. I am thickened too and my skin has begun growing loose. I cut myself with my herbs and the scars stay. Sometimes I like it. Sometimes I am vain and dissatisfied. But I do not wish myself back. Of course my flesh reaches for the earth. That is where it belongs.”
In a world obsessed with youth, Circe presents aging as a natural, even beautiful, process. This passage is a quiet rebellion against the fear of growing older. It acknowledges the conflicting emotions around aging—pride, acceptance, vanity—but ultimately finds peace in the truth that time moves forward, and so do we. The progress we make over the years—emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually—shapes how we age and influences the future we build for ourselves. Each lesson learned, every hardship overcome, adds to the richness of who we become, allowing us to step into the future with wisdom rather than fear.
Circe is a novel that is, at its heart, about agency—about taking the fragments of what we are given and molding them into something uniquely ours. It teaches resilience, self-definition, and the quiet, unwavering strength of a woman who refuses to be forgotten.
These quotes are just a few of the many that have woven themselves into my thoughts, my life, and my skin. Circe is more than a book—it is a spell of its own, whispering to all who need to hear: You are not powerless. You are not small. You are the maker of your own world.
💡 Check out my Etsy shop, Mental Nesting! Thoughtfully designed mental health-inspired mugs, tees, and more to inspire self-care and connection. 👉 Visit here